


Kiss to the Rhythm

by orphan_account



Category: due South
Genre: Dancing, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kowalski and Fraser discuss the finer points of dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss to the Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt: Fraser/Kowalski, slave to the rhthym. Which came about because Step_right_up recognized Lilly Dillon from "The Grifters." So this story is for Step_right_up, because she or he did just that.

“Your problem, Fraser, is that you’re a slave to the rhythm.”

Fraser sighs in exasperation. “The rhythm is the _point _, Ray,” he says patiently. “If I don’t follow the rhythm, then I’m not dancing.”__

Kowalski rolls his eyes. “Look, did you not say that you felt that your dancing was ‘overly stiff and formal’?”

Fraser nodded. That was exactly what he said when he’d asked Kowalski for help in being a more graceful dancer. It’s not that he’s a bad dancer; it’s that Kowalski is so much _better _.__

“Now, me, I got no problem with formal. That’s what ballroom dance is _for _, being formal. It’s, you know, when something gets made over into something that doesn’t look like the real thing, but you still, you know, recognize it, right?”__

“Stylized,” Fraser guesses, and Kowalski nods enthusiastically. 

“Exactly! It’s all style. But you want emotion in there, too, right?” Fraser nods. “Okay, so you need to take following the rhythm and then layer feeling on it.” Fraser stares blankly at Kowalski. “What does this song make you _feel _?” Kowalski asks the question with uncharacteristic patience.__

Fraser closes his eyes and tilts his head as he listens. “She’s singing about constant labor, about chain gangs,” he finally says, opening his eyes to look at Kowalski.

“Okay, good. That’s what’s in the lyrics,” Kowalski agrees. “But now I’m gonna be the department shrink and ask how that makes you _feel _.”__

Fraser frowns. “I should feel frustrated,” he tells Kowalski. “Like seeing habitual criminals. There’s a never ending flow of work, and no matter what we do, it just keeps coming.”

“Okay,” Kowalski says. “But that doesn’t make you want to stop, though, does it?”

Fraser shakes his head. “No. It makes me want to keep going, because it’s a job that’s worth doing and we really do make a difference, even if it’s sometimes hard to see.”

“Right,” Kowalski agrees again. “Tucking the kids in at night. But you just said that you ‘should’ feel frustrated.”

“Did I?”

Kowalski nods. “I’m telling you, they get me and an old bartender in and no one on the force will ever need a head doctor again.”

Fraser smiles at that, but Kowalski is not going to drop it. He pushes a button on the stereo’s remote and the track starts up again, a man speaking formally about music before introducing the singer and her song.

“But since you said you ‘should’ feel frustrated, that means maybe there’s something else you feel?”

“Her voice is low and pleasant,” Fraser says, feeling for the shape of the song. “There are industrial noises, but her tone is almost…languid.”

“Okay, there you go,” Kowalski says happily. “The song is about being a slave to the rhythm, but you’re also listening to how she sings it, how the melody works.”

Fraser barely hears him. “It makes me feel like when I’m making love,” he says, without even thinking of censoring his thoughts. “When I, when we both, feel the need, and it’s so strong, but I know, we know, we have all night. So I, we, just pull apart, everywhere but our mouths, and just…kiss. Because we can.”

Kowalski’s staring at Fraser, his jaw dropped. Fraser suddenly realizes what he’s just said and blushes furiously, wondering if he can recover this conversation at all. If Kowalski realizes just who Fraser desperately hopes the “we” in his scenario might be.

“Okay, that’s a good start,” Kowalski finally says, looking off to the side, his voice a little hoarse. “Now, do you think you can take that feeling and put it into your dancing?”

Fraser takes a deep breath and a chance. “Later, Ray,” he says. “We have all night,” he adds, and moves just enough to press his lips against Ray’s mouth. Gently, languidly, despite the urgency he feels.

Ray’s arms reach up to hold him close as he returns Ben’s kiss. And Ben hears, over and under Miss Grace Jones’s voice, Ray telling him without words that they have all night, that they’ll never stop the action.


End file.
